


If the World Was Ending

by Cheyalinn_of_Tafth



Series: Terrible Things [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (very slight r-18 only tho but its still there so im still tagging), Angst with a Happy Ending, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Implied Sexual Content, Iwaizumi Hajime (27) Athletic Trainer, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, POV Iwaizumi Hajime, POV Oikawa Tooru, Post-Time Skip, Pro Volleyball Player Oikawa Tooru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:08:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27330067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheyalinn_of_Tafth/pseuds/Cheyalinn_of_Tafth
Summary: Oikawa and Iwaizumi never thought that being apart physically can morph their being childhood friends into something else - something that can frighten them both into years of pain, and nothing, and waiting, and longing... and being utterly, undeniably lost without each other.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: Terrible Things [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1993660
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45
Collections: Haikyuu Angst Week 2020





	If the World Was Ending

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys, its cheya again. i really enjoyed writing this one, and i hope you guys can enjoy it too!!
> 
> Haikyuu!! Angst Week 2020 Day 2.  
> Phone calls/Texts. Insecurity. "Was I ever enough?"
> 
> Inspired by ["If the World Was Ending"](https://open.spotify.com/track/2kJwzbxV2ppxnQoYw4GLBZ?si=PfgYDVb-Q42y1plrpiYkQw) by JP Saxe & Julia Michaels

_Irvine, California. 2013._

In the middle of a yawn, he flipped another page of his thick textbook, as Hajime felt his phone vibrate on the table. Looking at his empty cup of tea, he answered the incoming call.

“Good morning, Iwa-chan!”

“You don’t have to do that every day.”

“Eh? But it’s my morning routine, Iwa-chan! Greeting you good morning in Japanese before my early morning run has been my good luck ever since I moved here. Cut me some slack, Iwa-chan!”

Hajime sighed as he stood up from his study table grabbed his mug and his smartphone, and headed to his dorm’s mini-kitchen. He was thankful that his roommate was currently out tonight and he had the whole place to himself until they come home. This way, he can study well for his tests tomorrow.

Oikawa’s voice filled the silence, though. And Hajime could not even deny the little comfort it gave him. Of course, he would never speak of it, especially not to the person currently on the line.

“Iwa-chaaaaan. Are you studying that hard? You already have stellar grades. What more does college want from yoooooou? Don’t ignore me, you meanie!”

“College needs me to pass my subjects, Shittykawa.”

“Hmmm, but don’t ignore me!”

“If I did, like... actually did, I doubt you’d let me.”

“Of course, I won’t! As if I will let you not talk to me!”

Hajime chuckled as he filled the electric kettle and turned it on, before reaching for another sachet of instant green tea.

After they both moved almost a year ago, Oikawa has been so dedicated in keeping their communication as a daily thing for both of them, even the distance between them was already about ten thousand kilometers and four hours. He usually calls Hajime while he was about to go running in the morning, with Hajime still studying during ungodly hours of the night.

Oikawa was not wrong, it was routine, something Hajime has always been skeptical yet he never addressed the topic as confrontational as it should have been.

That the routine would not stick, sooner or later. That they would stop talking every day eventually. That everything about them both would have to shift and morph into something else. That there would come a day, one of these days, that they would look back at their high school days and would know that their relationship was nothing like how it was.

But Hajime could not express it as such. Oikawa would not even let him. Hajime would have said that he was just being realistic but Oikawa would tell him that he was being too negative about life. So, that was why they stayed like so.

“Iwa-chaaaan. I have something to tell yoooou,” Oikawa suddenly said, voice pouty. “Eyes on me.”’

“You can’t even see me.”

“Iwa-chaaaaaan. Fine. Ears on me, or whatever. Just... listen.”

“What is it, Shittykawa? Aren’t you going to be late for your early morning run? Don’t you have training today?”

“I do, I do... And I am about to head out now. I just want to get this thing off my chest. I also want you to be the first person to know!”

“Know about what? I have to go back to studyin’ soon.”

“Meanie. I... Well. The team... They decided to make me a starting setter, starting today. That’s why I called.”

“You always call.”

“But this is earlier than normal. I want you to know before I officially start the day, Iwa-chan. And I guess before you officially end yours, even if you sleep so late if you even sleep at all. You should take care of yourself still, yanno.”

Hajime stared at the electric kettle. He watched it boil and stayed like that, standing by the kitchen island, for a few moments before he turned it off and unplugged it. Oikawa would be starting setter from today. For Club Atletico San Juan. He would be on the court all the time, coached by his idol everyday.

He has made it.

“Congratulations... Tooru.”

“Eh? Why have you gone soft like that? You’re so unfair.”

“I haven’t. I am just... I really am proud of you. You’ve done it. This was what you’ve always wanted, right? You’re there now, where you want to go.”

“I know! And it suuuuucks that you’re so far away from me right now.”

Hajime laughed, “And that was because I am here, trying to get to a place where I want to be. I still have to beat your ass.”

“Hah! As if.”

“Hmm.”

“Iwa-chan.”

“What now? Is there anything else you wanna say?”

“Eh... Well... Uhm, Iwa-chan... What if I told you that I have always been so...”

Hajime’s front door suddenly unlocked, and his roommate burst in with their boisterous laughter, crowding him immediately.

One of his roommates, Anton, was really drunk as they slung an arm around Hajime, “Ya shoulda went with us, Haj! There were a lot of cuties to meet... and to bang!”

“Ahaha...” said Hajime, trying to listen if Oikawa had said anything. He has not, but the call was still there. “Maybe next time?”

“If ya say so! I will really drag you to the club, one of these days, bruh. I would not be happy and content unless I see you with someone real cute,” slurred Anton as they found their bed and flopped down on it.

“Ahahaha...” Hajime responded, frowning at his phone. “Oikawa?”

“Ah. Nothing, Iwa-chan. Forget about it. I have to go out anyway. Bye, Iwa-chan! Talk to ya later!”

And then the call was dropped. Hajime looked at his phone curiously. Well. Oikawa would tell him one way or another, whatever the hell that was. He always did anyway, despite Hajime’s thoughts of them eventually drifting apart. Perhaps, if Oikawa really insisted they won’t, then they won’t.

So, Hajime put down his phone and continued making his third cup of green tea. He should really go back to the schedule of the remainder of his school week and do the last run-through of the topics of his tests tomorrow.

* * *

_San Juan, Argentina. 2014._

Tooru was in the middle of loading his washing machine, humming to the tune of a commercial, when a ping sounded, a notification he set when a certain person messaged him. That made Tooru excited and scared at the same time.

Because the last time Iwa-chan talked to him was two months ago when his childhood friend greeted him on his birthday. It was a short message, just a simple greeting and something along the lines of, “Don’t fuck up or I will come for your neck.” And then it dwindled into small talk and to silence again.

This has been happening a few months after Tooru became starting setter and his everyday training got the best of him, and Iwa-chan’s college units started to demand more and more of him. A ten thousand kilometer distance, of course, started to pull them apart, as slow as it had been.

Tooru knew that he would still talk to Iwa-chan whenever something big enough had happened to him. Like an achievement, or high praise or some kind of brand new amazing opportunity found him. And he also knew that Iwa-chan would do the same whenever he gets good grades, or when he started to play a little bit of volleyball with a local team. Their lines of communication did not close, it was just... difficult.

They both have different worlds and every day they navigate vastly different spaces. They live their lives in such a different wavelength that talking... that understanding each other, was no longer as easy as it had been before, back when they spent so many hours of their every day beside each other.

Tooru thought it would be easy. He did not think that it would be difficult. And yet...

[Iwa-chan sent a photo.]

Frowning at his phone screen, he unlocked it and checked the photo.

He dropped the remainder of his soiled clothes into the washing machine, freeing both of his hands, and started to type the longest key smash he had ever typed. A minute passed that Iwa-chan did not see his messages, he pressed the call button.

And it was answered immediately.

“Surprised?”

“What the flying fuck, Iwa-chan? Why are you with him? Why is he there? Why are you two together? Iwa-chan, speak!”

Iwa-chan’s laughter graced him from the other line, and Tooru realized that it really has been so long every since they talked through chat, much less on the phone. And that... he maybe... missed Iwa-chan’s voice. The realization took him aback that he started to space out.

“Oi, did you die?”

“Wh-what? What do you mean, Iwa-chan? I was just here! I was trying to wash my clothes, yanno.”

“You totally spaced out.”  
  


The heat started to creep up Tooru’s cheeks, “What? I didn’t, and why are you evading all the questions? You’re with Ushiwaka, of all people!”

“He... isn’t that bad.”

Tooru gasped, and he felt like they haven’t been talking for only just hours, not a whole six months of radio silence. “No way. No way, Iwa-chan. You got caught up with him. Oh, my. Did you hook up with him?”

“Huh...?”

“You totally did.”

“No. Well... I don’t know. Not yet? I am not as well-versed as you are with this kinda thing, you know. Flirting and stuff.”

“Flirting?” Tooru huffed, “You would not get the mighty Ushiwaka to bed if you flirt with him. He would never get it. You should just tell him directly after like, hanging out with him a few times.”

“You know too much.”

“Of course I do. I tried that before. I just failed and found another way because I am smart like that.”  
  


“So, I am about to get a guy into bed. The same guy you have bedded before.

“Bedded! Iwa-chan, what a word. And so what? It has been years. I haven’t been anywhere near him and his genitals for a long time. You can have a go with it, and then tell me, so I would know if he had gotten better at it... or something.”

“Hah. You wish. As if I am telling you about my sex life, Shittykawa.”

“Fair.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t want to hear yours either. Gross.”

Tooru laughed out loud, the loudest he had laughed for a while. It was how he had laughed before. The way only Iwa-chan can make him. When he calmed down, tears prickled at the corners of his eyes and his stomach was hurting.

“Anyway, I am going to intern under his father, maybe next year,” continued Iwa-chan. “I would even be busier.”

“Same here. I would finally start a brand new season as a starting setter. And they told me I should also watch out for offers, like endorsements for commercials, or something really cool with my face plastered everywhere around here.”

“Ah. Of course.”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.”

“This is nice, Iwa-chan. We talked again.”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been doing really well, yeah?”

“Of course, Shittykawa.”

“Of course.”

“I’m gonna hang up now, I am about to board a bus back to my place. Wakatoshi had something else to do today, so he would not be able to drive me back.”

Tooru snorted, “Whatever. I’m going back to my washing machine. Bye, Iwa-chan.”

And then Tooru ended the call. He sighed, wondering why he started to feel a foreign itch in his throat that was sooooooo akin to anger. They never spoke of their feelings for each other. They never addressed such topics, even back in Japan. They were just... together, always together, and perhaps Tooru thought that it would not change.

Perhaps he was too deluded in these thoughts that the axiom of them would always stay as is, no matter where they may be, no matter how many hours their days and nights were apart.

Tooru thought that they would always stay as they are, and even though other people come and go, no matter what kind of storms pass by, they would be the same.

But Tooru was, unfortunately, wrong.

* * *

_Irvine, California. 2015._

Hajime was nursing a can of beer as he looked out of his window. Because the new solo unit he started to rent a month after his college graduation had a good view of the coast, he can see lights and fireworks, and small people who were happy celebrating.

The turn of the year was still a few hours from now, as it was only ten in the evening, well, for him. In Argentina, it would already be 2016.

Hajime wondered how Oikawa celebrated such an occasion. They used to meet up with the rest of Seijoh, go to a festival, watch the fireworks, walk around to play games and laugh at each other, and then after the evening, they would lounge around in each other’s houses with just the two of them, not sleeping a wink because of boardgames and laughing and just talking, until it was time to visit the shrine. And then they would get each other New Year’s presents and then sleep the rest of the day.

It was not like they actually stopped being friends, or stopped talking at all. It was more like... it was something that happens when two people started to live in separate places, live completely separate lives that the only thing that connected them was the pasts that they both shared, and nothing else.

The box Oikawa sent was still on top of his dining table, contents half-opened but mostly were sweets, jams, and preserved food locally from Argentina, and Hajime hoped that his own package got to San Juan safely and that Oikawa liked the obnoxious California shirts and caps he got him.

Hajime thought that they do not need to talk every single day in order to stay friends. They can live their lives separately and still be connected by something, a small thread of the years they have spent together.

He wondered if it was still enough when Hajime opened his social media account and found Oikawa dating another athlete. A swimmer, this time. This was the sixth or seventh time he had changed partners this year and it sorta kinda became Hajime’s favorite pastime to guess how long Oikawa would be dating someone once he sees a social media update for it.

They have never talked about exclusivity. Hell, they never even talked about being together... like that. Hajime had nothing to hold on to. They were just childhood friends, all things considered. They never promised anything else. No commitments of the sort, especially when it comes to romance. They both dated here and there, and yet they never lost each other. Not really.

And that was how Hajime realized that there was a crippling fear inside of him at the thought of someone sweeping Oikawa off his feet in a way that he would forget about him altogether. An ache he pushed far, far away, an ache in his chest that feared that someday... someone will be Oikawa’s pillar in every facet of his life.

And that someone may not be him.

Hajime finished his can of beer as the fireworks ended, tucking all of his thoughts very deep within his heart. He hoped to never think about it ever again. He looked at his phone, to see the usual greetings from the usual people: his family, Mattsun, Makki, Ushijima, Yahaba, Kyoutani, and more people from Seijoh.

There were no messages from Oikawa.

* * *

_San Juan, Argentina. 2016._

Coach Blanco looked at Tooru very, very worriedly as he gave his speech before ending the day’s training. They would open the new season in less than a month’s time, and Tooru should really be doing everything perfectly, but he kept on flubbing his serves the whole day.

His teammates have been patting him on the back, trying to up his mood and to break whatever spell he was in. Tooru was trying, though, he tried harder today than most days, as he tried to let out emotions he could not even begin to understand. Emotions that settled deep in his stomach and began to rot his whole system from there.

After he dismissed the team, of course, he called on Tooru for a one-to-one pep talk. Tooru had gotten a lot of these talks over the few years he had been playing for Argentina, especially back when he was just starting out, fresh from high school.

“Tooru. Something in your mind?”

“Coach. It’s nothing. I will deal with everything. I will be back to normal tomorrow,” Tooru answered as politely as he could.

“Nah, I know you can pick yourself up. I have trust in you, no doubt.”

“Thank you, coach.”

“But you looked troubled. I bet it’s something personal. The funny thing about athletes like us, we have glass hearts. Our resolve can harden in a way that nothing can scratch it, but at the same time, it can shatter in a blink of an eye.”

“Yes, coach.”

“Hmm,” smiled Coach Blanco. “Something back home?”

“No, I... There’s nothing wrong back home, coach.”

“Then, is it a ‘someone’ then?”

Tooru could not help but flinch, as he remembered what he saw on his social media today. He was posting his selfie and his timeline refreshed itself, and there it was. A photo posted by Iwaizumi Hajime four hours ago, but the person in the picture was not him.

It was a smiling young blonde man, his long curly locks framing his freckled face. He was cute and slim, and Tooru took one look at him and called him a twink and was about to roll his eyes when he saw the caption Iwa-chan wrote. It was: _thank you for the smile that rivals the California sunrise, babe._

He almost threw his phone outside the window because he was too pissed to function for a hot minute. And so Tooru stood up, prepared himself for daily training, and resorted to imagining that blonde twink’s head was the volleyball he was slapping from his end of the court.

“So, it really is a someone, eh? Love troubles, Tooru?”

“Love! Love troubles, really... Coach... With all due respect, but, of course not. As if I will let something like that hinder my play. As if I will let some ugly blonde twink fuck up my serves like that,” Tooru huffed, crossing his arms.

“You know, Tooru. While dreams should be chased to the ends of the world, while we strive to be powerful, to be the best, to be at the top, we are mere mortals. Sometimes, we have to acknowledge that part of us that longs and wants without permission.” Coach Blanco patted Tooru’s shoulder. “Is there something you can do?”

Tooru frowned. Is there something he can do to stop Iwa-chan from dating some blonde freckled twink? Is there something he can do to earn back his place... Tooru bit his lip, realizing that he never had a place anywhere at all, but that of a childhood friend. And they were no longer children.

“Nothing. There’s nothing I can do about it, coach. Not... personally,” he answered truthfully.

“Then, let it go. Let the winds of fate connect what should be connected, and disconnect what should be disconnected. Let things fall. You cannot receive every ball.”

Tooru took a deep breath and nodded. He muted Iwa-chan’s social media accounts that night.

* * *

_Irvine, California. 2017._

Hajime was tired. He did not know that being a physical trainer also requires to have so much training. He stood up from his chair, from the current book on muscles he was reading, and did proper stretching. The clock by his bedside table told him that he needed to feed himself some lunch soon.

He never went out of the routine he has been trained to keep. He rendered time at the gym, ate well, slept well, did a lot of physical activities at the same time as keeping his mind sharp for work. Hajime has been a valuable help to Coach Utsui and the Irvine Polar Bears as their assistant trainer.

Other teams have scouted him, trying to get him to switch, but he was happy to be working under such a legend, and someone who understood being away from home felt like, even if he has been in California for years now.

Sometimes, he still gets these... random aches and pains in his chest, or in his throat, or down in his stomach whenever he watches the volleyball games played by Japan. There was something else that clawed up at Hajime, and he learned how to name it as homesickness. It was funny because he already finished a whole college degree in the States. He even built some semblance of life here, he dated and slept around, he worked, and yet...

Perhaps it was because of the ties he has, the relationships he had, or maybe just memories of a certain person that he kept tightly-wound against his chest. Someone he barely talked to these days. Their communication line was still open but both of them barely knew how to talk to each other. It was something Hajime learned to ignore, hoping it will pass, or go away for good.

It did not happen but he was not sure what was it that kept him from being in peace. Until Ushijima forwarded him a photo that was forwarded by none other than Kageyama Tobio.

The photo was of Oikawa and Hinata Shouyou, tounges out, the Brazilian beach, and amazing scenery behind them both. Ah.

_Ah._

Hajime huffed and replied to Ushijima with a smirk emoji. A second later, the Schweiden Adlers’ spiker was calling him. He answered the call, “What, Ushi? Ya think they’re... a thing?”

“Not impossible. We were too. A thing, I mean.”

“Ha! You funny.”

“Was the truth, Haj.”

“I know, I know. I am glad he is fine and living his best life though. I mean, outside of the news I see of him in Argentina.”

“You mean you two haven’t...”

“Not since the small but quaint thank you I got from when I left him a message on his birthday. ‘s alright, though. It’s not like we promised each other something else than beating each other’s asses off. We... did not operate like...”

“Like romantic partners.”

“Yeah, that. We were never that, and we never even talked about anything.”

“But you wanted to, and somehow, you know he wanted what you want as much as you do.”

“You’ve gone real perceptive on me, Ushi. Not fair.”

“Hmm.”

“But I still plan to see him again someday. In-person, on the court, in a way, he would never expect.”

Ushijima chuckled from the other line, “Would pay good money to watch.”

Hajime laughed out loud, trying to escape the thoughts of hot nights in Brazil, of sand and desire, and the probability of Oikawa kissing a certain orange-haired spiker in the heat of the moment.

* * *

_San Juan, Argentina. 2018._

Tooru was scrolling down his feed, reading through the fantastic tweets of the volleyball fans as they take their pick between the Adlers and the Jackals. It was not surprising that Hinata Shouyou, even if it the ongoing game that Tooru was streaming was his debut game, he was already a crowd favorite.

The man acquired some kind of charisma from the cute and boyish charm he had in high school. Gone was the overzealous young boy who believed too much in his setter, but instead, he earned his rightful place to be a confident professional volleyball player who has everyone wrapped around his finger.

Even Tooru himself, for a time, when he visited Brazil. Shouyou had been a wonder, but Tooru knew enough to know that he was already spoken for. Perhaps because he himself, too, believed that he was already taken, in some shape or form, by someone who never left his mind. But that someone never spoke for him, never took him for himself, and Tooru felt like it was somehow his fault.

Now, they haven’t talked for a long damn time. Not properly, anyway. They still greet each other during their birthdays, or during holidays, but the conversations never stuck. It was just a silly greeting and a silly thank you and nothing else. As if they never wiped each other’s snot and tears after losing a game. As if they never laid on the same bed with the backs of their palms almost touching.

As if they were never the best person for each other at all.

Tooru groaned loudly at how dramatic he sounded in his head until he got a notification.

[Matsukawa Issei tagged you and two others on a photo.]

It was a photo of them, waaaay back in middle school. Kitagawa Daiichi. It was surreal, like it was another lifetime, like it never happened to him, like it was just a faraway dream, so detached from where he stood now. Mattsun had the audacity to caption it with: _see? we were friends with cool people. right, Makki? If only they were still cool now... hehehe._

And he tagged Hanamaki, and yes, Iwaizumi Hajime.

The comment box started to have activity as he scrolled down. Makki replied with, “Oi. I still think Iwaizumi is still cool. He never wore floral in Cali.”

“HAHAHAHA. You’re right, I never did,” was Iwa-chan’s instant reply. Tooru’s fingers itched, trying to think of a good enough reply, something that will garner him some kind of response, even just a reaction, from a person ten thousand kilometers away from him.

Biting his lip. Tooru went with, “Ha. I wore boxers and gained money from it! Still not cool enough for ya?”

Thus, the comment section went alive as if he sparked some kind of flame.

Hanamaki Takahiro: I still can’t believe they wanted you to endorse boxers. Or maybe because it looked like the statue of David, but IRL. HAHAHAHA.

Iwaizumi Hajime: HAHAHAHAHA.

Matsukawa Issei: I think yeah, they want Oikawa to model the extra small ones so they can save up on the extra fabric, too. Huh. Ergonomic.

Iwaizumi Hajime: HAHAHAHAHAHA.

Oikawa Tooru: You think I’m so funny, ha, Iwa-chan?

Tooru waited for a reply as the three dots started to appear, and then...

Iwaizumi Hajime: Maybe.

“The audacity,” shrieked Tooru from his bed. He was about to open his private conversation with Iwa-chan but the other had certainly beaten him to it with his own message.

Iwa-chan: For the record, I totally knew it was you the moment I saw the ad. And also, in contrast to popular opinion, I think it looked good.

A wide grin almost broke Tooru’s face and he let his fingers dance on his phone keyboard all throughout the night, forgetting that there was nothing that existed between them anymore. Forgetting, for a moment, that he was not enough for Iwa-chan. If he was, then he would have confessed or talked to him about it, or maybe even kissed him. Iwa-chan had so much time to do any of those.

But there was none of that, and with just a message, Tooru had forgotten all of that.

* * *

_Irvine, California. 2019._

Hajime could not sleep. He could not quite figure out why. It has been his birthday yesterday, and it was already in the middle of the night and he still could not sleep. He still resorted to tossing and turning around his king-sized bed.

He could not admit that he had been a little sad, even though he was given a nice celebration by the Irvine Polar Bears, Coach Utsui, and the rest of the friends he had gained in California. His constants from Japan called him too, and some Seijoh alumnus also a video called him a greeting when it was a decent enough time for both Makki and Mattsun.

Oikawa left him a voice message, and it was the only thing he kept on looping to break the silence in the darkness of his bedroom.

_Yahoo, Iwa-chan~! Happiest birthday to ya~! We’re about to play a game, in like, a minute, but still... So, thank me for never forgetting, Iwa-chan. Gotta go and win a set in your honor, teehee~!_

Hajime could not resist and search the ends of YouTube and other streaming platforms to watch C.A. San Juan’s game yesterday, their first one, a little bit after Oikawa sent him the voice message.

And true enough, they won the first set. Hajime could not help the smile that broke his face with the knowledge that it was won “for his honor,” no matter how shameless and how cheesy it might have sounded.

So, that did it, and hours later, Hajime was already too-deep into Oikawa’s social media accounts, trying to... What was he trying to do? He was stalking his childhood friend on social media, that was had been keeping him wide awake.

He has seen too much of Oikawa’s face in all of the pictures he had been uploading, especially the ones taken during his drinking and partying escapades, and yet he felt weird looking at Oikawa’s face. Like he could not believe that he grew up with this person beside him.

Like he could not believe that he was just seeing him through the screen, and nowhere else.

Sure, they promised to beat each other in some way or form, years and years ago, but they also were... so close, too, at that time. Promises like that can be voided when things change uncontrollably, right? Because relationships change with the inevitable passage of time and... Hajime felt like he needed to cry.

They never spoke of visiting each other when they get enough time. They never spoke of keeping in touch on some level or degree that was not practically strangers who just so happen to share a childhood, who just so happened to play volleyball together and led a team together for more than three years.

They both knew that they had absolute freedom and that they were no spoken lines nor boundaries, nor distances, nor commitments.

And it was fine. They were both okay, then and they are both okay now. Both of them have been healthy and happy and going for the farthest lengths they could reach in their respective careers. They loved, and dated, and moved on from relationships. They both accomplished a lot like this.

But then... _Yahoo, Iwa-chan~! Happiest birthday to ya~! We’re about to play a game, in like, a minute, but still... So, thank me for never forgetting, Iwa-chan. Gotta go and win a set in your honor, teehee~!_

Why does Hajime feel lost now, admittedly without a certain person beside him, of all the years he could have felt lost in the past?

* * *

_San Juan, Argentina. 2020._

Second Week of April -

Tooru checked the new quarantine-friendly training guide Coach Blanco had sent the members of the team. It was to keep themselves fit and physically healthy despite the ongoing lockdowns due to the pandemic. And while that was going fine for him, Tooru was mentally almost in shambles.

He wanted to play again so badly. He was here in Argentina because he wanted to reach that level where he can say that he was made for the court, he was made to set and serve the ball. He was made to play volleyball. Without it, though, what now?

Somehow, he was aware that it was a little bit overdramatic. He can still play after the pandemic, and it’s not like he would be less of a player if he would not be able to play professionally for months. He was keeping up with his diet and his health and his exercises, so he should be perfectly fine.

He needed the rest, too, but the thoughts that came with having too much time... not so much. Tooru started to talk to people instead of just posting tweets and pictures and status updates. He started to chat with Mattsun and Makki more, and even with his sibling and his parents, too.

And perhaps... Tooru picked up his phone and scrolled through his social media feed for a while until a message ping was heard.

Iwa-chan: Hope you’ve been cleaning your place well. I will drop-kick you from Irvine if you don’t wash your hands properly, Shittykawa.

Tooru laughed. Of course. He started to type a reply, but cleared everything and tapped the video call button instead. Iwa-chan accepted after the second ring, and his frowny face filled Tooru’s phone screen, and before the other man can scold him, Tooru opened his mouth.

“My place has never been this clean, Iwa-chan. I have also been sanitizing a lot of things when I go out... which I rarely do! Just... once a week, to jog outside – with a mask on! – and to grab my weekly groceries. You should put more faith in a professional volleyball athlete to take care of his health, yanno, Mr. Physical Trainer.”

“I didn’t say that, Oikawa. My faith in you has always been intact. I was just teasing.”

Tooru blinked, “Say what?”

“Ya thought I would scold your ass,” huffed Iwa-chan who was already grinning from ear to ear. “I was just... checking upon you if you want me to be frank.”

“Oh.”

“Right, Shittykawa. Oh. Cases have been surging there.”

“...Yeah. We have to stay indoors and maintain our physical shape until we can play again.”

“Hmm. Same with my athletes. You eating well?”

“Of course, I am!”

“Of course. I can help you cook some if you cannot do it alone. I know you suck at reading recipes.”  
  


Tooru opened his mouth in shock, “We haven’t talked for a long time and you get so mean to me still. How could you do this to me, Iwa-chan?”

Iwa-chan laughed hard.

First Week of May –

Tooru was listening, slash watching, Iwa-chan as he showed him how to cook some health meal, vlogger style. He keeps on yelling at the screen because Tooru keeps on spacing out whenever Iwa-chan’s muscles accidentally flex as he moved around his little kitchen in Irvine. How did Iwa-chan get this hot?

“Oi, Pervykawa. I can see what’s happening from my screen,” called out Iwa-chan.

“Is it my fault that you look like that, Iwa-chan?”

“Shut up.”

Third Week of June –

It was three in the morning in his side of the world, and he was half-asleep as Iwa-chan explained to him some herbal supplements that can help with his muscles and stress levels, something about an Asian remedy he had been looking into.

Tooru’s head had become a little hazy, and he could not help but smile as he laid on his stomach, looking at his laptop screen as Iwa-chan continued to talk. At this point, even though they have been talking almost every day since they first talked back in April, he would never get tired of hearing his voice.

“Iwa-chan, keep talking,” Tooru slurred.

“What?”

“Noooo, keep talking.”

“I am talking.”

“Yeah, I know. Your voice sounds really nice.”

Iwa-chan moved closer to the camera’s view, “You’re really sleepy, Shittykawa. I’ll continue tomorrow.”

“Nooooooooo, don’t leave. Just... speak. Until... I sleep. Please, Iwa-chan.”

Tooru’s eyelids were falling quick, but Iwa-chan started to talk about something he learned when he treated an injured player sometime last year...

First Week of July –

Tooru was lying on his side his earphones plugged in, and his phone was pressed against the pillow as he looked at Iwa-chan, who was doing the same.

“What? You’ve been staring at me like that for the last minute.”

“You were staring at me too.”

“And If I were?”

Tooru opened his lips only to grapple for words. He chose to try, this time, something he regretted never trying before. They have nothing to lose. Not anymore. “Then, I would have to consider that as flirting.”

“Flirting it is, then.”  
  


Tooru snorted, “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, Iwa-chan.”

His former ace smiled, smugly. “Oh, I know. The question is, Tooru, are you ready?”

Fourth Week of July – Tooru panted as his ears received the most delicious moans ever known to humankind. He moved his hand faster... and faster... and faster...

“Iwa-chan... Ugh... Argh... Iwa-chan, please...”

“Yeah,” breathed Iwa-chan from the other line, harshly, deliciously. “I’m right... there with you... Ah, fuck, Tooru. Fuck, you moan so well for me, baby.”

“Iwa-chan... I’m close... Ugh, please...”

“Shh... Let go, baby, let go. Agh, shit, feels so good, Tooru...”

An hour later, when Tooru had to change his sheets again, he realized that he never told Iwa-chan the most important thing he should have said first. But then, would he even feel the same? Would he even listen to him? Would he even understand what Tooru feels, at this point?

Would they still be fine, if he had said anything about being ridiculously in love with his childhood best friend for all of his life?

* * *

_Tokyo, Japan. 2021._

Hajime could not stop grinning as he watched his team finish their cooldowns after all the games they played today. He could feel the tension radiating from the other side of the net, a kind of friction that consumed him alive, even as he was standing there at the side, near the bleachers, and not in the middle of the court.

It was the kind of energy that built up for years, and years, and he could not wait to let it explode. He knew that it would be worth it. Everything had been worth it.

Tooru could not shake the throbbing of his chest. He was here now, back in Japan, finally, he had claimed the top. And he was here to finally, finally, take what he should have taken a long time ago. He looked beyond the net, where he played the game he won, to a smiling face of a man.

He bit his lip, already feeling the electricity of that stare. It was more powerful as they were only a few meters apart, no longer ten thousand kilometers and four hours away. They share the same air, the same sky, the same night and day, even if it would not be forever.

They would figure it out. Hajime threw him a grin, an invitation. Tooru got him a wink, licking his lips. He would have ended it right there, but he did not. He chose to fight until the last, so he ran towards the Japan side of the court.

“Iwa-chan.”

“Oikawa.”

A beat. People have already vacated their seats in favor of the other games for the day.

“Hajime.”

“Tooru.”

“Are we fine, Iwa-chan?”

Hajime shook his head, “Not until you come over. Not until you stay the night.”

Tooru laughed as tears prickled his eyes. He should be celebrating a win, not crying. He took a deep breath, stepped into Hajime’s space, and let him wrap his arms around him.

Hajime wrapped his arms around Tooru, and finally breathed him in, “Love me as much as I have loved you, Tooru.”

“I already did... I still do.”

**Author's Note:**

> if it isnt much, please drop me some love thru the comments section, please?


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